The Unholy Trinity
by Fiend-like-queen
Summary: Eternal life- gift or burden?? Crossover


DISCLAIMER: I own squat, nada, zilch, zero *sniff*

DISCLAIMER: I own squat, nada, zilch, zero *sniff*. I bow down to the respective deities that are Michael Crichton and Joss Whedon. Yes, this is a Buffy crossover, see notes below.

DEDICATED: to my muse Emma, and my dear friend Mary Ellen

NOTES: This fic is a crossover between Buffy and ER. Here's the sitch:

-Set after the Buffy finale "The Gift", yes, Buffy is dead

-Ignores the main events of series seven of ER, except that Carter did go to rehab and such.

-This story makes reference to Buffy-trivia, I'll explain what I can at the bottom

Belted in? Let's go (I'm feeling VERY cheesy, needless to say)!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Have you ever experienced true release? Pure, unadulterated relief? Action without consequence, theorists would call it.

Release comes through rebirth. I was transformed from a pathetic wreck of a man into a strong, perfect being.

It was a rush that it gave me, a feeling of control. And I'm not apologetic, because now I see, in the grand scheme of things, guilt is a waste of time.

You wanna know how I got here?

How long do you have?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Blood is life……It's what keeps you going, makes you warm, makes you hard, makes you other than dead".

_Spike, "The Gift"_

_ _

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

**TRAIN LEAVING CALIFORNIA, JUNE 2001**

** **

A young man sat with his head in his hands, trying to blink away the tears forming in his eyes.

He couldn't, and they flowed silently down his chiselled face.

She was dead.

The perky, blond thing that had annoyed the hell out of him.

But he loved her. The magnitude of his affection surprised him. He wasn't supposed to, but he couldn't help himself.

Then she was killed and he ran away. Not that anyone would notice or care.

The loneliness he felt was like a ravine, a sharp, jagged canyon that cut into his heart.

He wasn't leaving to search for past loves, or avenge her death; he just needed to disappear.

It was strange the blows fate dealt him. He should have been overjoyed at the return of his power, his inter-cranial chip de-activated by a well-positioned blow to the head.

And yet, he didn't care.

He was free, free to kill, free to feed, but apathy pervaded his every cell.

He reflected on his own humble beginnings.

He was sired by the most alluring of vampires, and made a childe of the legendary Angelus. Angelus was his mentor, the one who nurtured him, trained him, encouraged him.

It finally hit him.

He would sire someone, teach them the tricks of the trade, foster their growth in eternal life. It might helpfill the voids in his own pathetic, undead existence.

And so he stepped off the train to head for the nearest bar, the streetlights glinting on his peroxide hair. He looked back towards the train station.

"Union Station, eh?", he muttered to himself.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

COUNTY GENERAL, CHICAGO 

"I am outta here!" John Carter sighed in relief as he signed out at the admit desk. It had been a long, tiring day, and he just wanted to relax.

"Hey, Carter, wait!"

Carter looked up to see Malucci bounding down the hall.

"What about that drink, man?"

"I told you, Dave, I don't drink!"

"Hey, come on, come out to the bar with me anyway! I owe you one for keeping me in the Chief's good books!" Malucci raised his eyebrows pleadingly. "One quick, non-alcoholic drink, then. I'm not taking no for an answer."

Carter sighed again, this time in resignation. Dave wasn't so bad.

"Alright, but if you piss me off I'm going home!"

"Cool."

The two residents headed out into the night of the Windy City, entering a bar two blocks away.

"You always go into seedy bars like this, Dave?"

"Hey, Hoss, it's got atmosphere!"

"Yeah, whatever!"

Carter followed Dave to the bar, planting himself on a stool.

"One beer and, uh…"

"An orange juice, please".

"Well, it sounds more appetising than what that guy's having! Look, dude, it's like blood!" Dave spoke in undertones to his friend.

Carter glanced to his left to see a man in a leather trenchcoat staring into a glass of warm, red liquid. Freaked out, he turned back., eyes wide.

"He looks out of it, kinda depressed."

"Yeah, but what the f**k is that he's drinking!"

A Cockney voice interrupted their musings.

"Fill 'er up, mate."

"O-negative again?" the barman enquired of the stranger.

"Yeah", he replied, holding out his glass.

Carter's own O-negative was running cold in his vessels.

"Uh, Dave, maybe we'd better get out of here."

Malucci had heard the man's request; he was fixed to the spot.

"Yeah….". Dave was transfixed, his eyes held in morbid fascination.

The stranger caught Dave staring at him.

"It's okay, I won't bite mate."

The colour drained from Carter's face, Dave cleared his throat. He' d seen this before in Grenada, annoyed that he hadn't realised before what it was.

"Yeah, it's cool man…"

The white-haired stranger nodded in understanding.

"You want a drink?"

"Of that? Uh, no thanks!" Dave spoke for both him and Carter, who was still mesmerised. 

"No, a regular drink, you look as if you need it."

Dave simply stared at him.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you, if that's what you're thinking, I just-oh I dunno!"

"Hey, man, we're cool…I'm Dave, this is John."

Carter glared at Dave for revealing his name.

"Spike's the name."

His revelation did nothing to calm Carter's fears. Dave swallowed, the name sounded familiar. His eyes darted across to meet Carter's, doing their utmost to reassure him. 

"So, uh, what about that drink?" he asked Spike.

"Course. Hey, I didn't meant to scare you." Spike's present humanity was beginning to scare him, however. Though he didn't care about his evil persona anymore; he just wanted companionship.

As the barman served Carter and Dave, Spike pulled pills from his pocket and dropped into their drinks with a satisfying plink as they looked at each other.

"To better times." He toasted his new acquaintances, who were still uneasy.

They nervously lifted their glasses and gulped down their respective requests. 

Spike studied them, afraid of what he had just done.

* Why am I so bleeding caring? What should I care if they live or die? *

It was then and there he decided that they would be his childer…….

NOTES(2): 

_SIRE: a verb meaning to transform a human into a vampire_

_CHILDE: a human sired as a vampire to train as an equal, as opposed to a minion (created to serve)._


End file.
